


Roll With It, or, Nobody ever told Danny accidental car sex while already screwed was just another risk of the job

by commatme



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Abduction, Accidental Sex, Coming In Pants, Frottage, Humor, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, should this be tagged as bondage?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-06 01:37:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21218426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commatme/pseuds/commatme
Summary: “Awesome,” Danny snaps. “Just a question: are youtryingto get me off, or are you just really into doing some kind of irradiated version of the worm at the most inopportune of moments?”





	Roll With It, or, Nobody ever told Danny accidental car sex while already screwed was just another risk of the job

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my name is [bleep] and I am addicted to titles that are at least three times as long as they need to be. [Chorus of hellos back.]

Getting captured and abducted by criminals? Unfortunate. Getting captured and abducted by criminals who decide to tie you up very securely and throw you in the trunk of a car with incredibly crappy suspension? Way worse. Getting captured and abducted by criminals who decide to tie you up very securely and throw you in the trunk of a car with incredibly crappy suspension _right_ on top of your equally captured, abducted, and incapacitated-by-rope best friend and partner, which happens to be a position in which you’ve frequently found yourself in your late night fantasies, but never in real life, and certainly not in this kind of context even in your imagination? Yeah. Danny is not sure he has the words for that.

By the time Steve starts arching up his hips and _wriggling_, as if just the lurching hobble of the moving car itself wasn’t enough for him, Danny finds he can’t stick to his hastily taken vow of silence anymore. He’ll deny to his dying day that the sound he makes is an outright whimper. It’s really more of a loud, high-pitched hitch in his breath.

Steve stills under him, as much as he can in the car that keeps shaking around them in the dark, cramped space. “Danny?”

Danny can’t see his face – again: dark, cramped, and his own face is resting awkwardly in the crook of Steve’s neck, anyway. He can feel Steve’s warm, wet breath on his cheek, however. He growls, as if he might be able to caveman scare the excruciating overlap of welcome forced intimacy and complete awkwardness away.

Steve shifts a little. He makes like he might want to pick up his head, as if he thinks he might have magical eyesight that would afford him a view even in the pitch black, but then gives up. “Hey. Are you okay?”

“Awesome,” Danny snaps. “Just a question: are you _trying_ to get me off, or are you just really into doing some kind of irradiated version of the worm at the most inopportune of moments?”

Steve is quiet for a long second, before he makes a _huh_ noise. “So it _is_ your dick.”

Danny resists the urge to bang his head against the nearest available surface, because that would be Steve, and Steve just doesn’t deserve the masochistic pleasure he’d probably take in that. “Yes.”

“Okay. I thought so.”

“Wow, let’s get you a Nobel. What else would it have been, genius?” It not like Steve hasn’t been poking something of considerable size into Danny’s belly for a good while now, too. The difference is that Danny was raised right, and is therefore polite enough to assume Steve’s erection is nothing more than the logical end result of heat and unintentional friction and pretend he hasn’t noticed. It’s pretty much the only thing he _can_ assume, because the criminals were not only good at knots, but also smart enough to pat them down carefully and confiscate all their weapons and other possibly useful items. They’re not even wearing a belt or shoes anymore, let alone that any hardness on either of their bodies could feasibly be a gun at this point.

“I don’t know,” Steve admits. “I was hoping for a knife, maybe.”

Every day, Danny learns new, more frightening things about Steve’s history, personality and kinks. “You were hoping you’d been engaging in frottage with a _knife_?”

“Wasn’t frottage.” For the first time, Steve sounds something less than perfectly calm, and then only because he seems insulted by this somehow. “I needed room to get my hands free.”

“Did it work?”

There’s a beat of silence that drags on until it’s bullheadedly sheepish enough to be its own answer. 

“I’m taking that as a no,” Danny informs Steve. “So really, the only thing you accomplished was ramping up your totally innocent partner’s already sky-high frustration a little further.”

There’s a bigger bump in the road, causing both of them to veer up and come back down and crash together harder, at slightly new angles. Danny has absolutely zero evidence, but he suspects Steve of making use of the cover of bad road to push his hips up even further than physics demand. Steve’s an asshole like that.

Which he proves, by saying, “You don’t feel very innocent, partner.”

“God,” Danny moans. “Shut up. I hate you. Just stop talking.”

“Okay,” Steve says, in words, because he’s utterly incapable of following instructions. 

Danny has so many things to say about that they almost get tangled in his throat and trip each other up before they come out, and maybe that’s why the sounds are jumbled mess by the time they reach his lips. Regrettably, the more likely cause seems to be that Steve is definitely, incontrovertibly moving his hips again now. It’s not the oops-bad-road almost painful bump of hipbones or the uncontrolled hitching arch of apparently attempting to work his bonds loose, oh no – this feels different. This is a circling movement just slow and smooth enough that it has to be entirely intentional, a _grind_, if you so will, and Danny’s hips twitch in response because Jesus, yes, that’s glorious.

“What are you doing?” he asks, but in his aroused confusion it’s missing the bite he’s trying to give it. Somehow, it briefly makes sense in his mind to set his teeth to Steve’s neck to make his message sharper, and in certain ways it seems to work, because he can feel rather than hear Steve suck in a jagged breath.

“You-” Steve says, and breaks off, swallows. Danny imagines the bob of his Adam’s apple, imagines Steve has to lick suddenly dry lips before he can begin again. “You complained about frustration. I’m problem solving.”

“Stupid,” Danny tells him, because it is, in almost every conceivable way. 

“Yep,” Steve agrees, and moves his hips again.

Danny rocks against him, because yeah, it’s stupid, sure, but it’s not like he hasn’t gone along with way stupider plans of Steve in the past. Usually, these involve the possibility or even near-certainty of all kinds of bodily harm and tragic death, so comparably, one that ends in orgasm if successful suddenly doesn’t seem so terrible anymore. Steve lurches, almost knees Danny in places he doesn’t appreciate sharp bones, and somehow manages to spread his legs enough that Danny is between them instead of resting on top, even though Steve’s feet are still bound, and _shit_, okay, that angle is a hundred times better, even through all the layers of their clothes and underwear. His dick is going to be rubbed raw tomorrow and it’s going to be painful and suck, but right now, it seems so worth it.

He’s humping Steve, and part of him is very aware of this. The rest has been wrestled into submission by his monkey brain, which is whispering things like _yes_ and _sex good_ and _this is so close to perfect but it would be even better if you could get your dick free and rub it all over Steve’s naked skin and watch yourself come on his lips_. 

It’s a very eloquent monkey.

“Danny, oh, I, oh,” Steve says, throaty, carried on the moist breath that’s being panted against Danny’s temple now.

“_Yes_,” Danny growls back, which makes Steve shudder under him and almost lose his rhythm. Steve’s not coming yet – still moving too frantically for that, the snap of his hips too hungry – but Danny hopes he’s close, because if not, Danny’s going to embarrass himself in a few moments. This entire situation is completely ridiculous and he’s been hard and trying to hold back for what seems like an age, because it’s _Steve_ and they’ve been stuffed into a tiny, dusty space and they can’t even use their hands to touch or get undressed and attempting a kiss would probably end up with teeth knocked out when the car hits another pothole, and it’s all really bad except, again, _it’s Steve_. That’s Steve rubbing off against Danny in the most inelegant way possible and letting Danny do the same to him, and it might not at all be the way Danny imagined their first time should they ever have one, but still, just the thought of it is enough to-

He comes hard. Steve keeps chasing that summit for a little longer, making Danny ride his orgasm very literally, wave after wave, until Steve arches up one last time almost violently and then freezes under him. Steve’s hips give a few more tiny twitches, but then he slumps, body feeling languid from the outside the way Danny’s does on the inside.

When his heart feels a little less like it might try to beat out of his chest, Danny shifts to get slightly more comfortable, insofar as his bound hands and the limited space allow. He tries not to wince first at his overstimulated dick and then at the little air they have hitting the rapidly cooling dampness at his crotch. “Great,” he says. He tries hard to feel grumpy, because that seems like the thing to do. “Now we’re still prisoners, but we’re prisoners who just came in their pants.”

Steve is quiet for a moment, like he’s rolling that over in his mind, but when he speaks, he’s disgustingly chipper. “There’s no way they were expecting that. We have the element of surprise.”

Danny makes sure his groan can’t be misinterpreted as anything other than complaint. Steve hums happily in response and drops a kiss to the top of his head, because he’s a weirdo.

Danny definitely, absolutely does not smile against Steve’s neck.


End file.
